REV. NORMAN PINNEY.* I. CALM Twilight! in thy wild and stilly time, When summer flowers their perfumes shed around, And naught, save the deep, solitary sound Of some far bell is heard, with solemn chime Tolling for vespers, or the evening bird, Carolling music in the shady grove, Sweet as the pure outpourings of first love, While not a leaf by Zephyr's breath is stirred, Bright thoughts of those beloved and dearest come, Like sunset rays upon the azure wave; And joys which blossomed in the bower of home * Born at Simsbury in 1804. II. STILL unto thee, my brightest, fairest, best, Nor finding peace save in its ark of rest. My flight has been wide, o'er the tossing wave: Nor bower, nor tree, nor mantling vine were there; And like rich pearls deep in their ocean cave, Were hidden all things beautiful and fair. Still to its resting-place the dove would flee ;- HUGH PETERS.* I. AD POETAS. Quod si me lyricis vatibus inseres, YE are a wise and goodly company; Ye cannot fail of immortality! When ye would sleep, sweet will your slumbering be; For you Apollo wakes his echoing strings ; Born 1807; died 1831. II. TO THE MOON. HAIL, "great Diana," "virgin Queen of night!" "Pale, silent orb," "mild Luna," new or full, Crescent or gibbous! if thought not too dull, List to the prayer of a poor rhyming wight! Behold thy servant in a piteous plight! My soul is sad, my coat is growing old; My heart is heavy, and my heels are cold; Both in and out I am a sorry sight; Ideas and ink are gone, I cannot write, And when I could, they said I was a loon For offering incense at thy shrine, O Moon ! They call me mad, and that unmans me quite : Regina, hear me ! if I'm not a dunce, Moonstrike my brain, and make me so at once! GEORGE H. BOKER.* I. I DO assure thee, love, each kiss of thine A juster tribute, as the gracious spring Of my abundance. Kiss me, then, once more. "Plays and Poems, by George H. Boker. Boston: Ticknor and Fields. 1856." The sonnets by Mr. Boker are replete with the beauty and harmony of poetic diction, and his love sonnets are almost Shakespearian in their delicacy and plaintiveness. See the Essay on American Sonnets, I. 107-115, where five of his sonnets are already given. |